No Rest for the Winchesters
by gammadolphin
Summary: What if Sam was not the first to quit the family business? Dr. Abby Winchester had not seen her family for 7 years until a helicopter brought all 3 of them to her hospital gravely injured. Now she must deal with her twin's spirit she alone can see, while also trying to prevent her father and little brother from killing each other. And her. Not your usual sisfic. 1st in NoRest!Verse
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N**__ I am not usually a big fan of sisfics, but I thought that it would be interesting to do one where the sister was not the youngest, or a hunter, but was still very much a Winchester. I intend to add to this story based on interest, and may end up with a sequel if people like the storyline enough to keep reading it. This is my first published fic, so I would really appreciate some feedback! Enjoy!_

_**Disclaimer:**_If you have seen it on TV, it is not mine.

**No Rest for the Winchesters**

The young doctor stared despondently at the monitor, refusing to look at the body that it was attached to. She was long past hoping that the flat line would suddenly spike, but she couldn't make herself look away.

"There was nothing you could have done, Abby." The unusually gentle voice of her resident broke through the fog in her brain.

"I know that sir," her voice sounded flat even to her as she continued. "But I can't say that it makes me feel much better, and it won't make her family feel better either." Her resident just sighed, and turned to leave. He had tried to warn his student not to get attached to the 17 year old girl, because he could tell where the case was going from the second he had seen the scans of the girl's lungs. But something about the serious, brave, soft-spoken girl had had earned her a space in his young intern's normally well-guarded heart.

Abby watched as Dr. Bradley walked out of the door, only to be waylaid by one of the ER nurses. Her mentor turned back to her with a small smile.

"Well, Dr. Winchester, I know something that might make you feel better. How would you like to help with the season's first major trauma?"

Abby brightened slightly, eager to get more experience with trauma cases, rather than the slow, agonizing type she had just gone through. She cast one last look at the still body of the patient that she had grown so close to over the past month. Then she turned away and walked towards her next case.

She had only started her internship at the hospital two months ago, after graduating at 27 from an accelerated medical degree program. As such, she had not gotten the chance to see the hospital's helicopter pad in use before now. Abby followed Dr. Bradley to the roof, emerging into a small crowd of doctors and their interns, all waiting to receive the incoming patients. She began listening to their chatter.

"- rammed by a semi, just a little car, with three guys inside," one of the residents was telling Dr. Bradley. "The truck driver is okay, but it sounds like the men in the car are all in bad shape, though one of them was responsive in the field. We're going to have to work fast with the other two though."

Dr. Bradley nodded and turned to Abby. "Alright, Dr. Winchester, it sounds like we're going to have our hands full with this one. They'll bring the two worst injured guys out first; you should steer clear of them. Let the more experienced doctors help them. You wait for the third one and stick with him, he'll be your responsibility from now on, but Dr. Marcus will be the lead, okay?"

Abby nodded, slightly resentful that she was being sidelined, but knowing that the doctor's reasoning was sound. She had been 20 years old when she started college, two years behind everyone else, and even with her early graduation, she was still playing catch-up. Getting the lamest of the incoming traumas was just the price that she had to pay for being too scared to leave her family sooner.

Before long, the group of doctors could hear beat of the helicopter blades as it made its final approach to the hospital. Before the machine had even touched down, the emergency responders had already begun to slide its door open. At least one of those men had to be in bad shape, possibly flatlining, for them to be in such a rush.

Abby hung back as most of the doctors around her rushed forward to collect their first patient. But she could not resist standing on her toes, utilizing all five feet and eleven inches of her tall frame to try to get a glimpse of the injured man. But it was not until his gurney had drawn up beside her, about to be loaded into the elevator, that she saw his face and her world ground to a halt.

The raised voices of the other doctors, the dying whine of the helicopter engine, the screaming of the wind in her ears; all of it faded completely as she stared at the face that she had not seen in seven years, but would have recognized even if it had been seventy. It was the face that she had grown up with, had laughed with, cried with, fought with. It was a face that was seared onto her heart; the face of her twin brother Dean. In that face she saw the first 20 years of her life, from the stupid pranks used to fill long hours in the car, to the gentle comfort after a challenging hunt. She saw the lonely holidays and the moments of pride, but most of all, she saw one of the few people who held a piece of her heart, the brother that she would do anything for. The brother she had abandoned.

The young doctor reached out her hand in shock, but the moment that had felt like a thousand years to her had in fact only lasted a second, and her brother was already gone, whisked off to surgery in an attempt to save his life. Abby's brain struggled to catch up with what she had seen, to reconcile the memories of her vital twin with the broken and bloody shell that she had just seen.

Dean couldn't be dying, there was no way. Not from a car accident. Not from something so simple, so mundane; he would be furious, mortified that he, the hunter, could be taken out by a mere semi. He had always intended for his final moments to be spent heroically, his life traded for the betterment of others or for his family. Anything but a damn _car accident_.

Abby was shaken out of her reverie by the next wave of activity. Her shock over her twin's condition had eclipsed all other thoughts from her mind, but key words came rushing back to her as the second gurney was rushed past her, carrying another vital piece of her world. She stared after the father she had not seen for seven years, unable to fully process what was happening to her family.

Her legs automatically began to carry her after her injured brother and parent, but a cry from behind brought her up short.

"Hey, Winchester! A little help over here?" It was the voice of Dr. Marcus, calling from beside the third and final stretcher.

"_rammed by a semi, just a little car, with three guys inside." Three._

Of course. There was only one person that last gurney could be holding.

"Sammy," Abby whispered as she dashed to her little brother's side.

_**A/N**__ Thanks for reading! Again, I would love some feedback! The next chapter will contain actual conversations with the boys, I promise._


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N**__ Thank you so much to everyone who left such kind and encouraging reviews! They really mean a lot to me. I hope that you all enjoy this next chapter._

_**Disclaimer:**_ I do not own the boys or their story, just my original characters.

**No Rest for the Winchesters**

**Chapter 2**

Her fears were confirmed when she reached the stretcher. His face had changed over the years, showing each and every one of them, but it was unquestionably Sam. And he was most definitely unconscious.

"I thought they said that he was responsive in the field!" Abby shouted anxiously over the sound of the wind at the nearest EMT. "They said he wasn't as badly hurt!"

"We had to sedate him on the way over," the young woman yelled back. "You should have seen the way he was fighting us! It took three of us to hold him down long enough to get the sedative in. He was frantic about his family and wouldn't let us help him."

Abby stared numbly at her sibling, barely registering the commands thrown at her by Dr. Marcus, just responding mechanically, doing anything and everything that he thought would help her brother.

How had this happened? She hadn't seen Sam in years, but he had called her when he got accepted to Stanford. He had asked for her advice on leaving the family business, on living his own life. She had encouraged him to find his own path, to follow her example and pursue his own interests. He had called since then, every few months, just to check in. He had been _happy_, doing well in his classes, making good friends. He had called her when he met his girlfriend, and again when he asked her how he should go about proposing. He had told her about the law school interview that he had lined up, how he thought he had a good chance at the future he wanted. How had that excited, hopeful young man gotten sucked back into the black hole of their family and wound up here, being rushed through the halls of a hospital for scans to make sure that he did not have any brain damage or internal bleeding?

Two hours, half a dozen scans, and lots of bandages later, they had done all that they could for Sam, and were just waiting for him to wake up.

"Keep an eye on him Dr. Winchester," ordered Dr. Marcus as he walked out of Sam's tiny ER cubicle. "And try to get your head out of the clouds."

Abby nodded absently as she fell into the chair beside Sam's bed. She was desperate to check up on the rest of her family, but she was hardwired with the instinct to protect Sammy, and she would not leave him alone. She ran her fingers gently through the wavy brown hair that was longer than she remembered. The gesture had always worked to sooth her little brother when he was upset over a nightmare or in pain from a hunting injury. This time, however, it failed to produce a response in the young man before her.

"Come on, Sammy," she whispered pleadingly in his ear, grasping one of his limp hands. "I know I haven't been there for you like I should have been, but I need you to wake up for me. Please, kid, I need you to be alright. This wasn't supposed to happen to you, you were supposed to be out. Safe. Please Sammy. Dean…he's hurt, and so is Dad, and I can't lose you too. Not you, Sammy." Abby's voice broke on the last word, and the tears that she had been holding in since she saw her twin's face finally began to fall. She let them come, but refused to make a sound. She was a Winchester, after all.

The moisture in her eyes prevented her from seeing the pair of hazel eyes blink slowly open.

"Abby?" His voice was soft, confused and disbelieving. Her head shot up and her tears dried instantly, relief flooding through her.

"Sammy? It's me, I'm here. You're okay, you're gonna be fine. I won't leave you." She wrapped her arms gently around her little brother, planting a kiss in his chocolate curls.

"But…what are you doing here?" The doctor pulled back, taking Sam's face in her hands. His eyes were cloudy with confusion.

"I work here Sammy. You managed to get into a car accident in the middle of nowhere, and this was the closest hospital. Do you remember anything?"

"I…I don't…" Sam rubbed his head in frustration. Then his eyes cleared and panic took over his face. "Dean!"

He tried to push himself out of the bed, only to be caught by his sister when a wave of dizziness hit him.

"Easy, Sammy," soothed Abby as she lowered Sam back to a sitting position. "You got slammed by a semi, you need to rest."

"But Dean, and Dad. They were both hurt worse than me, where are they? Are they okay?" He stared up at her desperately. Abby had forgotten the incredible power of those puppy dog eyes of his. She never could bring herself to lie to him.

"I don't know Sammy," she whispered. "It's only been a few hours since you got here, and I've been with you. I haven't been able to see either of them. But…they were both in pretty bad shape when they came in."

Her face must have looked even worse than she thought, because before she had even finished speaking Sam had gotten to his feet again and was heading for the door. Abby grabbed his arm to stop him. He tugged it from her grasp, but turned to face her.

"I need to see him." There was no question of which family member he was talking about. Neither Sam nor Abby had the best relationship with their father, but they would both do anything for Dean.

"Sam, listen-" Abby began, but she was cut off by her brother.

"No. You abandoned him! We both did, but he came back for me, and all of this is my fault, and I won't leave him again!" His words burned, but Abby refused to show the pain that his accusations caused her.

"Sam, I'm not trying to stop you. But you're forgetting something," she replied gently.

"Yeah? What's that?"

"You were admitted to the hospital Sammy."

Abby waited patiently for her words to register. She watched as realization dawned on her brother's face. A blush rose in his cheeks and he looked down at the short hospital gown that he was wearing. A gown that had an open back, which was currently facing the rest of the ER.

The older sister allowed herself a small grin before wordlessly handing Sam the clothes that had been removed when he was brought in. She stepped outside of his cubicle and drew the curtain closed, allowing him the privacy to change. The relief over Sam's return to consciousness was beginning to fade, quickly replaced by growing fear for the rest of her family. The image of Dean's bloody and mangled body kept flashing in front of her eyes. If he died…she didn't want to think about it.

Fortunately, Sam emerged at that moment. Unfortunately, he scowled the second he saw what Abby had in front of her.

"There is no way I'm riding in that thing," he stated, backing away from the wheelchair that his sister was pushing towards him.

"A semi, Sam. It's been less than four hours. You lost a lot of blood, you were sedated, and you might have a concussion. I am a doctor, not to mention your big sister, and you will ride in the damn chair or so help me, I will make you."

The siblings glowered at each other for a few moments before Sam reluctantly lowered himself into the wheelchair.

"This is humiliating," he grumbled.

"No, Sammy, humiliating was the time you accidently asked out a transvestite. This is sensible," retorted Abby.

"You swore you would never bring that up!"

"And you swore that you would be safe at college!" Abby winced. She had not meant to start in with the questions before she knew the condition of the rest of her family.

They both fell silent until they reached the ER desk.

"Hey Tracy," Abby said to the nurse on duty. "I'm looking for the two other guys who came in the chopper today. Can you give me their locations and room numbers?"

"Sure doc," the young woman replied. She spent a few moments clicking through her computer. "Alright, it looks like the older one is stable, still unconscious though. The other guy is listed as critical, but stable as well. They're both in the ICU, rooms 207 and 218."

"Right, thanks," Abby heard herself say._ They were still alive. Critical, but alive._ Relief washed through her again.

She practically ran to the elevators, nearly flinging Sam from the wheelchair when they arrived.

"Okay, that's it. I'm walking," Sam said, rising from the offending chair.

Abby did not have the patience to argue with him, so she just shoved the chair aside as they boarded the elevator together, riding to the second floor of the hospital. Abby led Sam towards their brother's room, but was brought up short by a call from behind her.

"Dr. Winchester!" It was her resident, Dr. Bradley. She thought about ignoring him, but then she remembered that he was in charge of Dean's case. She told Sam to go in ahead of her, before turning to talk to her mentor.

"How is he, Dr. Bradley?" she asked anxiously.

"My patient? We need to talk about yours. He shouldn't be out of bed yet, much less visiting the ICU. You know better than this, Abby."

"I know, sir, but it was his father and older brother in that car. He wouldn't rest until he saw them."

"Then why isn't he in a wheelchair at the very least?"

"You wouldn't believe how stubborn he is. Please, doctor, he seems alright. I'll be with him the whole time, I'll monitor his condition. I think it would be best for all of them if they could be together."

The older doctor gazed searchingly at his student for a long moment before finally relenting.

"Fine, but I expect you to be watching that boy's every move. You readmit him if he shows any troubling signs."

"Yes sir," said Abby, relieved that she had won, but impatient to see her brother.

"And you can tell him that his father is awake," finished the doctor before he turned and walked away.

Abby stood still for a moment after he left. Her father was awake. That meant he was going to be alright. She closed her eyes and took a moment to breathe, settling her emotions before entering the most important room in the world.

It was worse than she had allowed herself to fear. The first thing she registered was her twin, lying in a nest of tubes and wires. She knew what each and every one of those cords was for, and knew that they added up to a severely injured brother, who could not even breathe on his own. The young woman took a single, shaky step towards her brother.

"Abby?" the voice pierced her to her core. It was as achingly familiar as it was impossible. The doctor slowly looked up to the corner of the room, where her eyes met a set that were as vibrantly green as her own.

"Dean?"

_**A/N**__ Thanks for reading! I hope you have enjoyed the story so far. I would love some feedback. Updates may not always be daily, but they should be pretty regular._


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N**__ I would like to thank everyone who has reviewed so far. Your support and encouragement mean a lot to me. It looks like this story is going to have several more chapters, and I may do a few one-or-twoshots later with Abby that follow the rest of the series. I hope you enjoy this chapter._

_**A/N2 **__Please note that I, unlike Abby, am not a doctor, so any medical information in this story may be inaccurate. _

_**Disclaimer:**__ I still don't own the boys or their story, just my original characters._

**No Rest for the Winchesters**

**Chapter 3**

Abby could not believe what she was seeing. She looked back and forth between the body on the bed and the man standing beside it. They were both undeniably her twin. They even shared the same injuries, from the gash down the forehead to the various bruises and cuts peppering the rest of the body.

"Dean?" she asked again, moving towards him hesitantly. "What the hell is going on?"

"You tell me," he shot back, after staring at her in shock for a moment. "You're the only person who's been able to see me so far. Even psychic wonder over there can't tell I'm here." He gestured to Sam.

"But how- Wait, psychic wonder?" Abby turned to face her other brother. "What do you mean, psychic?"

"Abby, who are you talking to?" Sam was staring at her in confusion and concern.

"You really can't see him?" She questioned.

"See who? There's no one there." He was talking to her as if she were five, which would have bothered her if she had not been thoroughly freaking out.

"Who? Dean! You know, our brother? About six-one, dirty blonde hair, green eyes, massive ego, and _standing right there_!" She pointed, but Sam just continued to look at her like she was nuts.

"I told you so," remarked Dean with a smug smirk.

"Well congratulations!" After a day that had started out badly, progressed to horrific, and was now just unbelievably stressful, Abby was reaching the end of what she could tolerate. She threw her hands into the air, words increasing in volume as she continued. "That means you've won spirit status. Do you get that? You're probably some kind of apparition, which means…" The twins locked gazes. Neither of them wanted to finish that sentence. It was finally Dean who spoke.

"I'm dying." The attitude had drained from his face, leaving only exhaustion and a carefully hidden hint of fear in its wake.

"No." Abby's voice was full of steely determination. "No. I'm not letting that happen. There's no way in hell." They may have been apart for years, but facing Dean now, it was as if she had never left. He was her family, her brother, her twin, and she refused to lose him again. Seven years was long enough; an eternity was unacceptable.

She turned back to the hospital bed, reaching for Dean's chart in order to determine what was wrong with her brother. She grimaced as she read through the doctors' notes. _Blood loss, bone fractures, liver and kidney contusions and –_

"Damn," she muttered. "Cerebral edema."

"What does that mean?" The question came from both of her brothers simultaneously, but she could not bear to look at Dean, so she turned to face Sam.

"The trauma from the crash caused the membranes in his brain to leak. If it gets any worse, it could cause permanent brain damage. Or…" _it could kill him_. Abby did not finish the thought, but it must have been evident in her expression.

"No." Sam's bruised and swollen eyes began to shine with unshed tears. "Abbs, come on, there's got to be something you can do. You became a doctor so that you could save people without hunting. Save Dean!"

"I'll do everything I can, Sammy, everything. But it's amazing that he's survived this long, and I don't know what else there is!" Abby's voice had begun to climb again. She turned away from her little brother, unable to meet his distraught and accusing gaze. Silence fell between the siblings until Dean broke it softly.

"Tell him to give us a minute." Abby glanced up at him, surprised. He looked both resigned and determined, a combination that added an extra twist to the knot of anxiety already churning in her stomach. But she didn't argue.

"Sam, Dad is awake. You should go tell him what's going on."

"You won't tell me what's going on! You say that Dean is a spirit, and that he's dying, but you won't let him, but you might have to, and now you're kicking me out!"

"Look, Sam, I don't understand everything either, but I can't think with you here. Please, just go check on Dad," Abby pleaded.

"And what am I supposed to tell him about you? I doubt he's going to be thrilled that you're here."

His words were harsh, but Abby knew that they were true. She remembered the cold fury in her father's eyes when she had brought up the topic of a future that did not include hunting. He could not understand her desire for a stable life, one that did not involve the constant risk of bodily harm or daily facing terrible nightmares. John had always kept his children on an incredibly tight leash, and when his daughter had tugged at it, he had simply thrown it back at her. He let her go, but only with the knowledge that it meant sacrificing her family. She did not regret her choice, but she wasn't sure how she was going to face her dad again after all of the years and bitterness between them.

"Just…don't tell him, okay? I'll do it myself, later." Abby knew that she was simply delaying the inevitable, but she could only deal with so much at one time.

Sam clearly did not think it was a good plan either, but he didn't argue further. He just looked once more at the prone form of his brother on the hospital bed before exiting the room quietly, leaving his estranged siblings to make up for seven years' worth of words in one conversation.

Abby and Dean just stared at each other for a few moments in the sudden silence. They had both changed in their time apart, the weight of what they had seen and experienced clear in the eyes that they shared.

"So…" Abby began, desperate to try to bridge the gap that she could feel between them.

"Yeah," said Dean, with a humorless chuckle. "So you really did it huh? Became a fancy doctor, just like you always wanted. Tell me, sis, is it everything you ever dreamed of?"

Abby felt her heart constrict in response to the bitterness emanating from him.

"Dean, please. You know I wasn't cut out for hunting. This job, this life I have here is what makes me happy. I never wanted to leave you-"

"But you did leave me," Dean cut her off. "And you know what's worse? You left Sammy. He was sixteen years old, he needed his sister. But you didn't care; you just ran off and abandoned him-"

"Don't you dare tell me that I didn't care!" They were both shouting by this point. "I always cared. Why do you think I stuck around as long as I did? But I couldn't do it anymore, Dean! I couldn't watch you and Dad sink further and further into that twisted obsession with the thing that killed Mom. I couldn't watch Sammy keep getting hurt by a job that he hated. Because he did; he hated hunting, but you and Dad wouldn't listen to him either. I was the one who helped him get out; I was the one he kept in contact with in college. He was happy, Dean. He had a life and a future and a girlfriend he loved. Leaving was the right thing for both of us."

"Yeah? And where were you when that girlfriend of his burned up on the ceiling of his apartment? Where were you when he started getting weirdo psychic visions of people about to die? Where were you when he was willing to kill himself going after the demon that destroyed our family?"

"What?" It came out as a gasp. Abby felt as though the wind had been sucked from her lungs by Dean's words. "Jess is dead? Visions? A demon? Dean, what's been going on?"

"I thought you said you kept in touch with him?" Dean had stopped shouting, and was just looking at Abby in confusion. "You didn't know about any of that?"

"No, I didn't know! I haven't spoken to Sam since Halloween, when he called me about his law school interview. He was excited; he and Jess were fine. She really burned on the ceiling?"

"It was worse than you could imagine Abbs." All of the fight had left Dean. He sunk into the chair beside his bed as he continued. "Her stomach was slashed open and she was just pinned up there, right over the bed. The fire was everywhere. I'll never forget the look on Sam's face. We had just gotten back from this hunt…"

Dean proceeded to fill her in on the events of the past year. He told his sister about their father's disappearance, how Sam had gotten obsessed with the hunt, how he had been plagued by nightmares, and eventually visions. He went over how their Dad had found them again, with new information about what they now knew was the demon that killed Mary Winchester, how they had tracked it down and planned a hunt, only to be foiled by their father's kidnap and possession.

"He told Sam to shoot him, and I swear, for a minute there I thought he was going to." Dean's eyes were haunted by the memory. "But Sammy couldn't do it, and the demon got away. We were on our way here when that truck hit us. There must have been a demon in the driver. And then I woke up here, outside of my body, and I guess you know the rest."

Abby stood numbly, turning over in her brain all of the information she had just been given. Her family had been through so much in the past year alone, and she had been here, inserting IVs and getting emotionally attached to lost causes.

"How could Sam not have called me?" she finally asked. "I would have done something, anything."

"He probably didn't want you to get pulled back in too. He must have known you were happy here. And to be honest, there wasn't much you could have done for him. God knows, I tried, but he had to work through everything on his own." There was grudging forgiveness in Dean's gaze, and Abby was grateful for it. She had always hated fighting with him.

"Anyway, that's in the past now." Abby recognized the olive branch her brother was offering. He was calling a cease-fire, allowing them both to move on. She smiled softly, relieved as she felt the last of the tension between them dissolve. As if on cue, the twins reached for each other, ready to embrace at last after so many years apart.

But they had both overlooked one small detail; one of them was a spirit. Abby might as well have been hugging a cloud. She stared at her arms where they went through her brother's chest, before letting them drop to her sides.

"I guess we have bigger problems now," Dean stated.

"Apparently. Look, Dean, I wasn't lying when I told Sammy that I didn't know what else I could do, medically at least. I know the doctor that took care of you, and he's one of the best. At this point, either your body heals, or it doesn't. But the fact that I'm standing here, talking to your ghost, is not a good sign."

"That's another thing," said Dean, apparently choosing to ignore the fact that he had just been declared all but hopeless. "How come you can see me, but no one else can?"

"I was wondering about that. In the absence of any other explanation, I'm going to have to classify it as 'a twin thing'." Dean rolled his eyes. Growing up, the two of them had occasionally experienced odd impressions and feelings, such as a sense of dread when the other was in danger, or flashes of pain when the other was injured. They had always called it a twin thing, even though they were not identical.

"Yeah, I guess. But if there's nothing medical, there has to be something supernatural that can help me; some kind of hoodoo priest or faith healer." The controlled fear was back in Dean's face, making Abby's heart twist.

"We'll find something, I promise Dean. You're not dying on my watch."

"Thanks Abby. But you know what we have to do next, don't you?"

"Yeah," Abby sighed with resignation and trepidation. "Looks like it's time to go say hi to dear old Dad."

_**A/N**__ Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this latest installment. I know there wasn't much action in this chapter, but it will pick up. I'm sorry if you didn't like all of the fighting, but I felt that anything else would have been out of character for everyone. In case you were wondering, I do have an explanation for 'the twin thing', but it will not come up in this story, because of the timeline of what the characters know. I may do a shorter story later that explores it. The next chapter of this story should be up in a few days. I would love some feedback, positive or negative. Thanks!_


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N**__ Once again, I would like to express my gratitude for the people who have stuck with this story so far and left such awesome reviews. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!_

_**Disclaimer: **__Sadly, I am still not the owner of Supernatural or its characters, just the ones that I have made up._

* * *

**No Rest for the Winchesters**

**Chapter 4**

The nervous knot in Abby's stomach grew exponentially at the prospect of seeing her father again. So many times over the past seven years she had reached for the phone, about to call him, before she was stopped cold by the memory of the look on his face when she had left.

"He missed you, you know." Dean's voice cut through the swirl of anxiousness in Abby's thoughts. She looked up at him in surprise, then saw that he had noticed her twisting the hem of her scrub top between her fingers, a gesture that had long been a nervous habit of hers.

Abby glanced around at the doctors, nurses, and patients that surrounded them in the hall. She pulled her phone out her pocket, flipped it open, and held it to her ear.

"Who are you calling?" Dean asked in confusion.

"No one, but I'm the only one who can see you, remember? This hospital has an excellent psychiatric ward, but I would rather not wind up in it because people think that I'm talking to thin air."

"Oh, so they'll just think you're talking on the phone. Nice."

"Well, don't be too impressed; I stole the idea from an episode of House," Abby admitted.

Dean chuckled, but then remembered why he had started the conversation in the first place.

"Seriously though, Abby, Dad doesn't hate you for leaving," he said earnestly.

"You think? It sure seemed that way to me."

"Well, sure, he was pissed; he thought you were being selfish. But he was mostly worried about you being on your own, not having your family around to look after you. It was why he got so mad when Sam left too. But he never once hated you. He used to drive by Johns Hopkins whenever he could, just to make sure that you were alright. He did the same thing for Sammy."

Abby stopped and stared at her brother until she began to notice the odd looks from people in the hallway. She began to walk again, but she kept turning Dean's words over in her mind.

_He never once hated you_. For seven years Abby had been carrying the weight of her father's disappointment and disgust, and to hear that she might be free of it was nearly overwhelming. She quickened her pace and soon arrived at the door to her dad's room. She took a deep breath and turned to her twin.

"Would you…I mean, do you mind…?" She had trouble getting the words out, but Dean understood what she was asking for.

"I'll wait out here," he assured her. "I'm not really a fan of the emotional crap anyway." Abby gave him a grateful smile and pocketed her cell phone as she pushed the door open.

John Winchester was sitting up on his hospital bed, clearly in the process of trying to get out of it. He looked up when he heard the door opening, and his mouth fell open in surprise when he saw his daughter.

"Abby?" he asked softly, disbelieving.

"Hey, Dad," she returned shyly. She stood awkwardly in the doorway, unsure of how to approach him.

Abby's instincts as a doctor kicked in when she saw her father try to get to his feet. She dashed to his side and held him by the shoulders, forcing him to stay seated.

"Whoa, Dad, take it easy. You've been kidnapped, beaten, possessed, shot, and hit by a truck within the last 48 hours; you really shouldn't be standing."

"What are you doing here?" John demanded, reaching up to place a hand on her arm, as if to make sure that she was real.

"I work in this hospital. I was actually Sam's doctor, but he was in pretty good shape and stubborn as a pig, so he checked out." Abby looked around, surprised that her little brother was not in the room. "Where is he? I sent him to you."

"He went to Bobby Singer's place to take care of the car and ask Bobby to get some stuff that I needed," replied John absently. "So you're alright?" he asked intently.

"Am _I_ alright?" she repeated incredulously. "I'm the only Winchester that doesn't look like they got hit by a comet. I've been living a perfectly normal, safe life. I'm fine, Dad."

"Good," said John, releasing his grip on her arm, and pulling her into an embrace. Abby was still for a moment, too shocked to respond, but then she wrapped her arms around her father gently, mindful of his injuries.

After a moment that lasted a thousand years and the blink of an eye, the two Winchesters pulled away from each other. Some of the emotion faded from John's face as he schooled his features back into their usual stoic mask. Abby let her hands drop from his shoulders, satisfied that he would not try to get up again. "I went to your graduation from medical school, but I lost track of you after that. I was worried."

Abby was stunned again. Dean had told her that their father checked in on her, but she realized now that she hadn't really believed him.

"You were at my graduation?" she asked, her voice nearly a whisper. She had not thought that her family cared about that. Sam had come to her college graduation, but he had not answered when she had called him two months ago about her med school ceremony. She realized now that it was because he was hunting again. But she had never imagined that her father would be there.

"Of course." John looked up at his daughter's face for a moment before sighing heavily. "Look, Abby…after you and Sammy had both left, and I realized that I had managed to alienate two of my three children, I did some thinking. When you were born, I never wanted any of you to live like hunters. But then your mother…" John broke off, his eyes glazing over with the memory of the worst night of his life. "Anyway, I realized that, somewhere along the way of trying to get you prepared for what's out there, I stopped being your father and became your drill instructor. I didn't care about what you wanted, because I was too busy trying to keep you alive, safe from all the evil I could see.

His words, though undeniably sincere, had a rehearsed quality to them.

"You already had this conversation with Sam, didn't you?" she asked. John smiled and chuckled dryly.

"Yeah, I had to do some patching up there, too. But I mean it, Abby. I want you to be happy. And I am _proud_ of what you've done."

"Thanks Dad," whispered Abby past the lump in her throat.

"You're welcome. Now is the moment over? Because I'm not really good at this emotional stuff, and I've had to deal with far too much of it over the last few days."

Abby smiled and nodded, amazed at how profound her feeling of relief was. She had not realized just how much she hated being estranged from her family. Her euphoria faded when she remembered what had brought them together at last.

"Dad…Dean is in really bad shape." She glanced behind her, making sure that the door was closed so that her twin's spirit could not hear her. "If we don't do something, I-I don't think he's going to make it."

Abby decided not to tell her father about Dean's spirit. He would not be able to talk to her brother, and it would just upset him further to know that his son was on the verge of becoming a ghost, something that he hunted.

"Yeah, Sammy told me," said John quietly. "I need to see him."

He tried to rise from the bed again, but received a ferocious glower from his daughter.

"Don't even think about walking, Dad. Car accident aside, you got _shot_ in the leg. You're riding in a wheelchair." Her tone allowed for no argument, but it did not stop the man from grumbling as he settled into the chair.

"Stop complaining; you're as bad as Sam," Abby chided. John rolled his eyes, but fell silent.

"So, how did it go?" asked Dean as his sister and father emerged into the hallway.

Abby gave him a small smile and a thumbs-up as she pushed John towards Dean's room. They were about to enter when they heard a call from behind.

"Dr. Winchester!"

"Seriously, again?" she muttered to herself. No one ever needed to talk to her this much. She turned, annoyed, but her heart dropped and her irritation evaporated when she saw who it was.

"Mr. Meyer," she said softly. For the first time since she had seen her family on the helicopter pad, she remembered Caitlin, the patient she had lost this morning. She was hit by a wave of grief that she had not had time to feel earlier, as she looked at the man who had just lost his only child.

The young doctor pushed her father's wheelchair gently into Dean's room, telling him that she would be back shortly. He just nodded absently, staring at his oldest son lying in a nest of tubes and machines. Abby then squared her shoulders and left her brother's room to face the man that she had gotten to know so well over the past month.

Timothy Meyer looked terrible, his eyes rimmed with red and his thinning hair disheveled. Abby knew for a fact that he had slept in the clothes he was wearing at least twice, and she was alarmed by the sunken pallor of his cheeks. It was when she noticed that he was swaying on his feet that she started moving towards him.

"Mr. Meyer, please, you should sit-" she began.

"No!" he shouted, jerking away from her. "Don't you dare tell me to sit! You let my daughter die. You said you would help her, but you let her die."

The accusation hurt like a physical blow. Abby had done everything, _everything_ she could to save Caitlin's life, but the teen had been too far gone. But a grieving father would not see it that way. Abby glanced back at her brother's room.

"Please, Mr. Meyer, I understand that you're angry, but there are other patients here. Can we please talk somewhere else?"

The older man glanced around the hallway as if he had just realized where he was. He ran a hand distractedly through his hair.

"Fine, fine," he muttered. "Let's go to Caitlin's room."

"Abbs, who is this guy?" Abby had forgotten that her brother was standing behind her. She just motioned for him to be quiet. She had to concentrate on the conversation before her.

"I'm not sure that's the best-" started Abby hesitantly.

"I don't care what you think! We're going to my baby's room."

Abby looked at the determination on his face and gave a sigh of defeat. If this was how he needed to work through his grief, then she would go along with it. She was about to follow Mr. Meyer down the hallway when she heard Dean gasp and saw him jump back from something. She whipped around to face him.

"Dean, what-?"

"You didn't see that?" His voice was shaken as he stared down the hallway.

"See what?" she asked in confusion, but Dean had already taken off at a run. Abby looked back at Timothy Meyer, whose face had begun to grow purple with rage and pent-up emotion. She was torn for a split second, but she found herself dashing after the brother that would always take priority for her.

Abby followed her twin through the hospital at a run until he pulled up short, staring around wildly. Finally his gaze locked on something visible only to him.

"There!" he shouted, pointing. "Did you see it? It was some kind of ghost, or spirit, or something. It just went in that-" Dean was interrupted by a choked cry from the room he was pointing at. The siblings glanced at each other for an instant before rushing in together.

"Lucy!" gasped Abby as she dropped to her knees beside the nurse.

"Help! Help!" her desperate gasps pierced Abby as the doctor searched frantically for some sign of what was wrong. "I…c-can't…breathe!" With one final, fruitless wheeze, the girl grew still.

"No," muttered Abby as she searched for a pulse in Lucy's neck. Finding none, she started CPR. "Come on, Lucy," she said after forcing a lungful of air into her friend and continuing compressions. "You're getting married in a month, don't do this."

After what felt like an eternity, Dean finally rested a hand on his sister's shoulder. It went right through, but Abby looked up at the motion.

"She's gone, Abby," he told her gently.

"But…" Abby looked down numbly at the body below her. "I just had lunch with her yesterday. She's healthy, she's getting married."

"I'm sorry. But I saw what did this, and I'm going to find it, don't wo-"

"Someone else you failed to save, Dr. Winchester?"

The siblings looked up to see Mr. Meyer in the doorway, red faced and panting, clearly having followed them at his own version of a run. Abby stood carefully. She was beginning to worry that the death of his daughter had unhinged him slightly.

"Sir-"

"No! No more! I won't let anyone else get hurt because of you."

Abby heard the sharp crack of the gunshot and her brother's desperate shout before she felt the fiery blaze of pain in her chest. Her eyes rested on the dark gun clutched in Timothy Meyer's trembling hand. She looked down in surprise to see a crimson rose of blood blooming over her heart.

The last thing she was aware of before slipping away into the waves of black and red was the sound of her twin desperately crying out to her as he tried to stem the tide of blood from her wound with incorporeal hands.

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_**A/N**__ Sorry about the cliffhanger. Well, actually I'm not sorry. I did say that the action would pick up, did I not? For those of you who don't know, Johns Hopkins is a prestigious university in Baltimore, Maryland. In this story, Abby went there for both college and medical school. As always, I would appreciate feedback, even if you want to tell me that the story sucks; I can take it. The next chapter should be up in a few days._


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N**__ As always, thanks for the awesome reviews! They really mean a lot to me and encourage me to keep writing._

_**Disclaimer: **__As always, I own no part of the wonder that is Supernatural._

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**No Rest for the Winchesters**

**Chapter 5**

"Abby! Hey, Abbs, can you hear me?"

Why was Dean making her get up so early? Dad hadn't said anything about a dawn hunt, had he? Abby's eyes snapped open when she remembered that she was not twenty years old anymore, and there was no reason that her brother should currently be shaking her awake. Dean sat back on his heels as she shot up into a seated position.

"Dean? What happened?" She looked around the room, noticing for the first time the frenzy of activity surrounding them.

"That asshole shot you," said Dean, his voice containing a mix of shock, rage, and fear. Then he let out a short, humorless laugh. "I guess your apple-pie life full of rainbows and kittens isn't so great and safe after all."

Abby stood slowly, trying to get a glimpse through the knot of doctors standing and kneeling around something on the floor. She stepped back quickly as two nurses rushed past her with a gurney, and as the crowd parted for them, she was finally able to see what was capturing the attention of everyone in the room.

It was the hair she recognized first; chestnut brown like her little brother's, but longer and pulled back into a braid, the tip of which rested in the pool of blood that was slowly growing on the black and white tile. She then took in the face, with its delicate features that so resembled those of her twin, and the light dusting of freckles that currently stood out vividly against the deathly pallor of the rest of the skin. It was a profile she would recognize anywhere, but had never expected to see from this perspective.

"The same creature that took your friend, Lucy, came after you," said Dean quietly from behind her as they watched the doctors and nurses lift Abby's body onto the gurney. "I pulled it off of you, but that bullet had already done so much damage…"

"So now I'm a spirit like you," Abby stated numbly. "Super."

"Yeah, it's a real party," said Dean. "Listen, I know I've always been the coolest one, and you're jealous, but you've got to stop copying me, it's getting embarrassing."

Abby glowered at him until she remembered one of the perks of being a spirit like him. She punched his arm, smiling slightly when her fist made contact instead of sinking through it.

"Ow!" whined Dean, rubbing the spot tenderly. "I see you haven't let your muscles get out of shape."

Abby just rolled her eyes and started following the gurney carrying her body. She was stopped cold however by the sight that greeted her just outside of the door.

"Sorry, I forgot to tell you," said Dean when he saw what she was looking at.

Timothy Meyer was slumped on the floor, a gun next to his limp hand and a bright splash of red blood painting the wall behind him. His eyes were open, still as wild and bloodshot as they had been in the last moments of his life.

"He blew his brains out right after he shot you. The noise got people's attention, so the doctors found you right away, but there was nothing they could do for him." Dean did not sound particularly sorry as he stared down coldly at the corpse of the man who had hurt his sister.

Abby did not know how to sort through the turmoil of emotions inside of her, so she decided to push them all down and ignore them. Perhaps not the healthiest coping mechanism, but it was all that she could manage at the moment. She returned to chasing after the team of doctors that was rushing her body to the operating room, her brother close at her heels.

The two of them watched silently as the surgeons sliced into Abby's body, digging out the flattened bullet and trying to stem the seemingly endless exodus of blood from the wound. Dean grabbed his sister's arm when the machine monitoring her pulse reported the halt of her heartbeat, but released it in relief a few minutes later when the doctors managed to restart her heart.

Eventually, after innumerable blood transfusions, sutures, and a few more close calls, the doctors had done all that they could. Abby was wheeled to the ICU attached to the ER.

"Hey look, we're neighbors," said Dean in that falsely chipper way of his.

It was true; Abby had been placed in the room right next to her twin's.

"Lucky me," Abby deadpanned. "But you should know, I'm calling the cops if you play your music too loud or start hosting rowdy parties."

"Cute," Dean snorted. The traces of humor left his face when he looked away from his sister's spirit and back to her broken shell lying on the hospital bed.

"How bad is it, Abby, really? I mean, you're the doctor; do you think you can come back from this?"

"I don't know, Dean," she sighed. "It doesn't look good. Dr. Bradley seems worried, and he has a lot more experience with treating trauma patients. For him to look like that…"

They both focused their attention on the older doctor, who was leaning over his student's body, checking her vitals one last time. He looked shaken; this was probably the first time one of his pupils had ever been shot in his own hospital. But more than that, he looked sad, as if preparing himself for…

"Well, what does he know?" said Dean abruptly, turning away from the scene before him. "You'll be fine."

Abby could tell that he was trying to convince himself as well. She was trying to figure out how to tell him that Dr. Bradley knew quite a lot, in fact, and that her prospects were not good, when they both heard shouts from down the hall. The twins just looked at each other and sighed; they knew those voices. They both set off towards their father's room.

They were not met by a happy scene.

"-funny, I thought it was your obsession too!" John was yelling at Sam, both of them clearly furious. "This demon killed your mother, killed your girlfriend. You begged me to be part of this hunt. Now if you'd killed that damn thing when you had the chance, none of this would have happened."

"It was possessing you, Dad, I would have killed you too."

"Yeah, and your brother would be awake right now."

"Come on, shut up, both of you," interjected Dean. This was clearly not the first time that he had seen them fighting recently.

"Go to hell," Sam said quietly. Abby looked up at her little brother, shocked by the coldness in his voice. Where had all of that anger come from?

"I should have never taken you along in the first place. I knew it was a mistake, I knew I was wrong-"

But Dean had obviously had enough.

"I said SHUT UP!" he shouted, sweeping his hand across the table at the foot of the bed, and knocking a glass of water to the floor, where it shattered.

The room fell silent. John and Sam looked from the shards of glass to each other in confusion. Dean looked immensely proud of himself.

"Dude, I full-on Swayze'd that mother."

Abby rolled her eyes and was about to speak when she saw Dean wince in pain, falling to his knees.

"Dean!" she shouted, alarmed, as she ran to him. "What is it?"

She reached out to her brother, but he began to flicker in and out of view like a mirage. He looked up at her, fear evident in his face as he clutched at his torso. Abby looked up as she heard a voice over the hospital intercom.

"Code 500, ER. Code 500, ER." The young doctor went cold. There was only one thing that alarm could mean.

Sure enough, a crowd of medical personnel soon rushed past the doorway, headed in the direction of Dean's room.

"Something's going on out there," said John, concerned. He motioned for Sam to investigate, and Abby and Dean followed.

"No," whispered Sam from the doorway as they arrived.

As Abby had suspected, Dean's heart had stopped. His body was surrounded by a group of doctors and nurses, led by Dr. Bradley, all striving to revive him. They shocked his heart three times, eliciting no response. As they went to shock him for a fourth time, a ghostly, transparent specter swooped over Dean's body.

"Is that what came after Lucy and me?" asked Abby.

"Yeah," said Dean as he started towards the apparition. "You get the hell away from me!" he shouted at it.

The phantom remained in place, sinking closer to Dean's body as the monitors continued to whine.

"I said get back!"

Dean grabbed the spirit's arm, trying to yank it away from his body. It flung him back as if he weighed nothing. Abby caught her twin before he hit the wall and they both watched as the apparition fixed them with a piercing stare before gliding rapidly out of the room. Dean chased it, but Abby remained in the room, watching her brother's empty body anxiously.

"We have a pulse. We're back into sinus rhythm."

Sam and Abby let out simultaneous sighs of relief. It did not mean that Dean was getting better, but he had more time. Then Sam looked around, seeming to notice for the first time that his sister was not present. He approached Dr. Bradley, who had just finished checking over Dean.

"Excuse me, doc, but do you know where Dr. Winchester is?" he asked. The older man looked at him in surprise, his face darkening.

"Dr. Winchester is off duty at the moment," he said. Abby stared at him incredulously. That was not how she would have described her condition. "If you need medical attention-"

"No, no; I'm fine. It's just, Abby is a friend of the family, and I really think that she should be here."

Part of Abby wanted her mentor to lie to Sam; to cite all sorts of confidentiality regulations and tell her little brother that there was nothing he could say. Sam was already worried about one sibling; he didn't need to be fearing for the life of the other one as well. But the selfish part of her wanted the rest of her family to know where she was, to care about her condition.

After a long moment, Dr. Bradley rested a hand on Sam's shoulder, clearly concerned about how much the young man was dealing with, and how much he was about to add.

"I'm afraid that Abby was shot by the father of a patient nearly two hours ago," he said gently. Sam stepped back as if the words were a physical blow. "We've done all that we can for her, but her condition is not good. She…she may not survive."

The doctor looked away and walked from the room, apparently unable to tolerate further discussion of his student. He paused at the doorway.

"She's in the next room over, if you want to see her." He left.

Sam stood, dumbstruck, for an instant before sprinting into the neighboring room.

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_**A/N **__I hope you enjoyed this chapter. The next one should be up in a few days. Reviews mean a lot to me, and I am always open to suggestions, so please let me know what you think. Thanks!_


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N**__ Welcome to the next installment of this story. Enjoy!_

_**Disclaimer:**__ I am starting to run out of ways to say that I don't own Supernatural._

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**No Rest for the Winchesters**

**Chapter 6**

The moment Sam saw his sister's body laying on the hospital bed his knees began to give out. He fell into the chair next to the bed and dropped his head into his hands. Abby strained to hear the words that he was muttering to himself.

"No, no, no, no. Not you, too Abby. This is too much. I can't…not both of you; I can't lose you both." He leaned forward suddenly and grabbed her unresponsive hand.

"You promised, Abbs. Just today you promised that you wouldn't leave me." He stared desperately at her blank face for a long moment before his shoulders slumped and he leaned back; traces of tears escaping from his overfull eyes.

Abby now knew for a fact that spirits could not cry, because tears would have been pouring down her face if it were possible. She put her hand on her little brother's shoulder and almost screamed with frustration when it simply went through. Sam however looked up, as if he sensed her presence.

"Don't worry, Sammy. We're not going anywhere." Abby looked around to find the source of the voice, only to see her twin standing in the doorway. "I'm getting that thing before it gets us. It's some kind of spirit, but I could grab it. And if I can grab it, I can kill it."

"You really believe that?"

She regretted asking the question when she saw Dean's eyes. She could see the uncertainty in them, and the fear, for himself and his family.

"I have to."

Abby just nodded.

"So what now?" she asked.

Dean looked back to their little brother, clearly worried about him. The younger man was rubbing his eyes fiercely and shaking his head.

"You stay with Sammy; keep an eye on him. I'll go after this thing, and then come get you when I know what it is."

"I don't think that splitting up is the best idea, Dean."

"It's not splitting up if you're still with my body. If the spirit comes after me, you keep it away."

"And if it goes after, you know, spirit you?"

"Then I'll keep it away."

He gave her his signature grin before turning and walking back out into the hallway. Abby rolled her eyes and nearly went after him, but was stopped by another glance at her little brother, who seemed to be charting a course towards an emotional wreck.

"It's okay Sammy," she whispered to him, reaching out to stroke his hair, the gesture comforting her if not her brother.

Sam stood abruptly, turning away from his sister's body on the hospital bed and striding from the room. Abby followed him down the hall to John's room. Their father looked up when they entered. He paled when he saw Sam's expression.

"No," he said, starting to get up. "Dean's not-"

"He's alive," said Sam dully. "His heart stopped, but the doctors got him back."

John relaxed slightly.

"Then what is it?"

"It's Abby. She was shot, and…Dad, I think she's dying."

"Shot?" repeated John incredulously. "What happened? Who the hell shot her?"

He struggled to rise from his bed again. Sam and Abby both rushed towards him when he put weight on his leg and immediately pitched forward. Sam caught him before he hit the floor and returned him to the bed.

"Dammit, Dad," yelled Abby, tossing her hands up in disgust. "Why won't any of you idiots accept the fact that you were hit by a _truck_? You are _injured_. You cannot just pop back up and continue on like nothing happened!"

Naturally, her family ignored her.

"The doctor just said that it was the father of one of her patients," Sam answered John.

"Where is she? Take me to her."

Abby watched as Sam wheeled their father to her room. John's face was unreadable as he stared at the empty shell of his only daughter. He reached out to brush an errant strand of hair from her face, his hand lingering gently on her cheek. Abby was stunned by the gesture of tenderness. Her father rarely showed such displays of affection.

"What are you doing here?" The Winchesters looked up when they heard the angry voice. "This is a private room! Who are you?"

It was Alexis, another intern and Abby's best friend. The young woman did a double take when she saw Sam's face.

"Wait, are you Sam Winchester?" she asked. "Abby's little brother?"

"How did you know that?" It was John who spoke.

"And you must be her dad. I'm a good friend of Abby's. She has pictures of you guys in her apartment. She talks about you a lot."

John looked back down at his daughter.

"Who did this to her?" he asked, his voice deadly.

Alexis's face fell as she remembered why she was there.

"It was a man named Timothy Meyer. His daughter, Caitlin, was one of Abby's first patients. She was seventeen, and had severe lung problems. She should only have had a few days left, but Abby wouldn't give up on her. She convinced the other doctors to keep looking; wouldn't take no for an answer, you know? But there was only so much she could do. Caitlin stopped breathing this morning, and they couldn't get her back. Mr. Meyer went kind of insane. He blamed Abby for his daughter's death, so he tracked her down and…" She swallowed hard, glancing at her friend's body before continuing. "Anyway, Mr. Meyer is dead. He shot himself right after he did this to Abby."

The room fell silent. Abby willed her friend to realize that her family needed to be alone. She smiled gratefully when Alexis spoke.

"Um, I'll come back later; I can see you guys need some time."

The Winchesters were quiet after she left, each lost in his or her own thoughts.

"Dad, when I was in here, and in Dean's room, I…felt something," said Sam eventually.

"What do you mean, you felt something?"

"I mean it felt like, like them. Like they were there, just out of eyeshot or something. I felt Dean's presence when he was flatlining, and then Abby's when I was sitting next to her bed. I don't know if it's my psychic thing or what, it... But do you think it's even possible? I mean, do you think their spirits could be around?"

"Anything's possible." John seemed strangely unconcerned.

"Well, there's one way to find out."

"Where are you going?" John asked as his son started to walk away from him.

"I gotta pick something up, I'll be back."

"Wait, Sam. I promise I won't hunt this demon. Not until we know the twins are okay."

Sam gave his father the smallest of smiles and a nod before walking out. Abby followed him, sparing a concerned glance for the eldest Winchester, who seemed to be deep in thought; never a good thing in their family.

Abby followed her little brother through the hospital, curious about what he thought was so important to buy. When she tried to exit the building with him however, she suddenly felt as though she were trying to walk through quicksand. Each step was a struggle, and the further she got from the door, the harder it was to move. Eventually she got the message; her spirit was tied to the hospital, or her body at least, and she couldn't leave. She watched Sam drive away in a car that must have been loaned to him by Bobby, before reentering the hospital to find her other brother.

She had never appreciated how large the hospital was until she was trying to find a spirit in it. Nearly an hour passed before she finally found Dean, sitting in the cobwebby space under a remote staircase. Her twin had his knees drawn up to his chest and was running both hands through his hair, the way he only did when he was really upset. Abby said nothing; just sat down beside her brother, their shoulders touching.

After a while, Dean spoke.

"I think we're really screwed, Abby."

"How do you figure that?"

"I think it's a reaper that's after us. It's not killing people; it's taking them when their time is up. Like ours is."

"And you can't kill death," said Abby, remembering enough about reaper lore to know this.

"Nope."

"Crap."

"Yep."

The twins fell silent again.

"Sammy," whispered Dean eventually. "This is gonna wreck him."

"Yeah, and Dad," said Abby, not bothering to deny what they both knew was true.

"We should get back to them," she added.

"In a minute," Dean replied.

He laid his head gently on his sister's shoulder. After a stunned moment, Abby rested her head atop his, completing the configuration of solidarity and comfort that they had not used since they were kids. They remained like this for an interminable stretch, staring at nothing and bracing themselves for the end.

ooooooooooooooooooooo

An eternity later, the twins were back in Dean's room; figuring that Sam would show up eventually. Sure enough, their little brother finally walked in, carrying a brown paper bag in his arms. He glanced at Dean, then around the rest of the room.

"Hey," he began nervously. "I think maybe you guys are around. And if you are, don't make fun of me for this, but um, well, there's one way we can talk."

Abby leaned forward, curious. She could not help but burst out laughing when she saw what Sam was holding.

"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me," said Dean in response to the 'Mystical Talking Board'.

Sam was undeterred by the ridicule he could not hear.

"Dean? Abby? Guys, are you here?"

"God, I feel like I'm at a slumber party," complained Dean as he and Abby sat down on the floor across from Sam.

"Yeah? Been to a lot of slumber parties, have you Dean?"

"Not as many as you, princess."

"That was one time! Meghan Sharpe told me that she would teach me how to talk to boys. I couldn't exactly ask you or Dad about that, could I?"

"Well she must have been a sucky teacher, because you never get any."

"I have a boyfriend, Dean."

"Yeah? Does he know that you two are dating, or is he like that guy you were stalking in eighth grade?"

"Well we've been living together for two years, so I certainly hope he knows."

Dean stared at his sister.

"Seriously?" he asked quietly.

""Yeah," she replied. "Erik."

She had been trying not to think about the man she loved, but it was proving to be harder and harder as time passed. They had met at Hopkins, where Erik was getting his Ph.D. Abby had fallen hard for the shy, funny, caring man who was the polar opposite of most hunters.

"Huh," Dean finally said. "Well some boyfriend. You just got shot, and someone must have called him. Where is he?"

"Probably having a panic attack. In London. Which is where he is, at a pharmaceutical conference."

"Oh."

"Mhmm. We should probably try to answer Sammy; he looks a little despondent."

Sam was indeed staring with desperate concentration at the motionless indicator on the talking board. Abby and Dean looked at each other and shrugged, neither thinking that what they were about to do would actually work, but willing to try it for their little brother's sake. They each reached out a hand and moved the indicator towards 'yes'; stunned when it actually worked.

"I'll be damned," said Dean, impressed. Sam let out a laugh of relief.

"Both of you?" he verified.

The pointer moved to 'yes' again.

"It's good to hear from you guys. It hasn't been the same without you, Dean."

"Damn straight," said Dean approvingly.

"Oh, that's nice. When you're in a coma, it's 'it hasn't been the same without you'. When I get shot; nothing. I'm really feeling the love over here."

Dean chuckled at her indignation.

"Well, I have been out for longer. Plus, he's used to being without you; I've been with him every day for the past year."

"Whatever."

They returned their concentration to the board in front of them.

"Guys, what? H? U? Hunt? Hunting? What, are you hunting?"

They slid the indicator back to 'yes'.

"It's in the hospital, what you're hunting? Do, do you know what it is?" asked Sam anxiously.

"One question at a time, dude," complained Dean. He and Abby began moving the pointer over the letters; R, E-

"What is it?"

A, P

"A reaper," Sam stated. "Dean. Abby. Is it after you?"

Sam was silent for a long moment after he saw the indicator hover back over the 'yes'.

"If it's here naturally, there's no way to stop it," he said slowly.

"Yeah, you can't kill death," said Abby, echoing her earlier conversation with Dean.

"Guys, you're, um…" Sam trailed off.

"We're screwed, Sam," Dean finished quietly.

"No," said Sam, standing and beginning to pace. "No, no, no, um, there's gotta be a way. There's gotta be a way. Dad'll know what to do."

He left, headed for their father's room. Abby and Dean remained silent, having already said everything.

When Sam returned a few minutes later, John was not with him. His journal, however, was. The young man sat on the bed and glanced at his brother's body.

"Hey. So, Dad wasn't in his room."

"Where is he?" asked Abby and Dean simultaneously.

"But I got Dad's journal, so who knows? Maybe there's something here." He began to leaf through the old, familiar book.

Abby was concerned about their father's absence. John had been acting strange from the moment she had seen him, but something about the way he had looked at her after she was shot was bothering her. After sixteen years of hunting, she had learned to trust her instincts. She stood.

"I'm gonna go find Dad. You stay here with Sammy," she told her brother.

'You think something's wrong?"

"No," she replied, not wanting to worry him unnecessarily. "Probably not, I just want to check on him."

"Okay. Let me know when you find him."

"Sure."

Abby left her brothers poring over their father's journal and set off to find the man himself. She had only been down a few hallways when she was stopped by the abrupt appearance of a dark haired young woman in her path.

"Hi Abby," she said softly.

"Who are you?" asked Abby, too surprised by the woman's ability to see her to be polite.

"I go by Tessa."

* * *

_**A/N**__ Thanks for reading the latest chapter; I hope you enjoyed it. I am always open to feedback or suggestions, and I would love to hear what you think, so please leave a review. The next chapter should be up within a few days._


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N**__ I would like to thank again everyone who has left such wonderful reviews; they really do mean so much to me. I also appreciate everyone who has followed this story, and I hope that this next chapter is everything that you hoped for._

_**Disclaimer: **__This is getting depressing, but once again I am forced to admit that Supernatural does not belong to me._

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**No Rest for the Winchesters**

**Chapter 7**

Something about the way the girl was looking at Abby left little doubt in her mind.

"You're the reaper, aren't you? The one that's after my brother and me?"

Tessa smiled gently.

"You worked it out faster than Dean did."

"Well, he always did have a weakness for the pretty girls. I'm guessing you did the whole 'damsel in distress' routine too."

"I was trying to convince your brother that death was not something that he needed to keep avoiding."

"And how did that go for you?"

"We have some progress to make."

Abby snorted. If she knew her twin, then that was a tremendous understatement.

"But the thing that both of you are going to have to accept is that neither of you are going to wake up in this life. You are living on borrowed time already. It's time to-"

"Look, you can skip the speech," interrupted Abby. "I know what your job is, but you have to understand; I haven't been there for my family for the past seven years. And maybe that was wrong. Maybe they needed me, maybe they didn't. But I know for a fact that they need me now, and I'm not leaving them again. I made a promise."

"Life is a series of broken promises Abby. They don't matter; not in the end. And it is the end for you. The sooner you accept that, the sooner you can move on."

"Move on to where, exactly?"

The reaper said nothing, just gave her a mysterious smile. Abby felt like punching it off of the woman's face, but she did not think that was a fight that would go well for her.

"Right. Well, good talk."

Abby did not know when she made the decision, or if she really made it at all. But there was only one thing she could do. She chose family.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go find my dad," she said, turning her back on the reaper and heading deeper into the hospital.

Abby was not sure what kind of fate she had just condemned herself to, but she knew that it would probably not be pleasant. She tried to push Tessa from her mind as she ran through the halls, looking for some sign of the eldest Winchester. She checked every closet, bathroom, and empty room that she came across, but it was not until she reached the basement that she heard the voices. The first was unfamiliar.

"It's very unseemly, making deals with devils. How do I know this isn't just another trick?"

Abby stared at the door to the boiler room. She knew that her father had to be behind it, but it looked very solid, and she would not be able to open it. She looked down at herself, took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and stepped forward.

"It's no trick."

Abby's eyes snapped open. Her pride over making it through the door evaporated as she took in the scene before her.

"I will give you the Colt and the bullet, but you've got to help Dean and Abby. You've got to bring them back."

John Winchester was facing a middle aged man across a symbol of chalk and a bowl of herbs on the floor. Something about the way the light hit the other man's eyes…

_The demon_.

Abby did not understand. Why was her father down here, chatting with the creature that had killed his wife and put his son in a coma? But then the words that she had heard the moment before began to sink in.

"No," she whispered. Surely he was not really about to sacrifice everything that he had been working towards for the last 22 years, to make a deal with the creature he hated more than anything else in the universe?

"Why, John, you're a sentimentalist," the yellow-eyed demon taunted. "If only your children knew how much their daddy loved them."

"It's a good trade. You care a hell of a lot more about this gun than you do Dean or his sister."

"Don't be so sure. Dean killed some people very special to me. But still, you're right; he isn't much of a threat. As for your daughter; I'm more worried about stepping on a Lego than getting hurt by her. And your other son…" He looked speculatively at John. "You know the truth, right? About Sammy? And the other children?"

"Yeah. I've known for a while."

"But Sam doesn't, does he? You've been playing dumb."

Abby stared back and forth between the two of them. Was that bastard talking about the visions that Dean had told her about? What did he and her father know about Sam?

"Can you bring my children back? Yes or no?" John was clearly tired of the demon's conversation.

"No. But I know someone who can. It's not a problem."

"Good. Before I give you the gun, I'm going to want to make sure that they're okay. With my own eyes."

"Oh, John, I'm offended. Don't you trust me?"

The hunter just snorted lightly. The demon tilted his head.

"Fine."

"So we have a deal."

As much as Abby hated what her father was about to do, she could not help but be relieved. She and her brother would be okay; something that had been seemingly impossible. But the demon's next words shattered her fragile new hope.

"No, John, not yet. You realize that you are asking me to go up against a very powerful adversary. Death does not appreciate being cheated, especially twice."

"What are you saying?"

"Pick one, John; your son, or your daughter."

"No," John stated, pulling back the hammer on the Colt in his hand and pointing it at the man across from him. The two possessed orderlies standing behind him started forward, but the demon raised a hand to stop them, a speculative look on his face.

"Alright, so you don't like that option. Maybe I have another, but you'll need to sweeten the pot."

"With what?" John asked guardedly, lowering the Colt slowly.

"There's something else I want, as much as that gun. Maybe more."

Abby's stomach dropped. Nothing good could be coming.

"Oh yeah; and what's that?" John asked.

"That gun is just a piece of metal. It's useless without a fighter to wield it. That's where you come in, dogging my every step, always on my trail and looking for some new way of bringing me down. It's starting to get annoying. I'd like a little peace and quiet."

"You want me to stop hunting?"

"No. I want you to stop breathing. Permanently." The demon lost his taunting smile, face becoming all business. "Those are the terms John; your precious kiddies in exchange for the Colt and your eternal soul."

"What will you do with it; my soul?"

"Dad, no!" shouted Abby. Was he really considering the deal?

"Oh, it'll get dragged to Hell. And I'm certainly not the only demon you've managed to irritate over the past twenty years. I'm sure they'll think of something creative for you."

John paled slightly, the fear in his eyes visible under his usual hunter's mask. The demon looked at him intently, and the cruel smile reappeared.

"Of course, if you're having trouble making up your mind, I could always remind you what's at stake."

He waved a hand in Abby's direction. John's eyes widened as his daughter finally became visible to him.

"Didn't your daddy ever teach you that it's rude to eavesdrop on people, Abby?"

"You son of a bitch," she hissed, taking a step towards the creature. "Stay away from my dad."

She turned towards her father.

"Dad, it's okay, really. I'm dying, and it sucks, but you can't just let this bastard take your soul to Hell. I won't let you do that for me. And Dean wouldn't want you to either."

John stepped forward slowly, reaching out to grasp her shoulder. Iron determination overtook his features when his hand passed through her like a shadow. In that one look Abby knew that it was over.

"I'm sorry Abbs," he whispered to her. "But you and your brothers; you're all I have. I'm your father, and it's my job to protect you. I failed, but I can make that right. I can't lose the two of you. I won't."

He turned back to the demon as Abby numbly stood rooted to the spot. She could not process what was about to happen, could not accept what her father was about to sacrifice.

"So how do we do this?"

"Well, traditionally demon deals are sealed with a kiss."

The two Winchesters stared at him with equal horror. The demon smirked before he continued.

"Fortunately for you, I'm powerful enough to bypass that. A handshake will do." He extended a hand to John.

The hunter looked at it for a moment, then up at his daughter. He gave her a small, heartbreaking smile, and then the famous Winchester lie.

"It's okay," he said to her, before grasping the demon's hand determinedly.

Nothing happened for a moment, but then the demon threw back his head, a column of inky black smoke spewing from his mouth. Abby and John watched as it rose to the ceiling, before funneling into a vent in the wall.

There was another stretch of silence. Abby stared at her father, but he was looking wildly around the room, seeming to have lost the ability to see her. She was about to approach him when a familiar figure appeared in her path.

"Tessa?" she asked, surprised. But no, the eyes were wrong; yellow.

"Not this time kid," said the demon in the reaper's voice.

It raised a hand to Abby's forehead and closed its eyes. She gasped as a wave of cold rushed through her, filling her body with a sense of utter wrongness. She collapsed to her knees, trying to catch one last glimpse of her father before she succumbed to the darkness that was flooding her mind.

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_**A/N**__ Thanks for reading this installment; I hope you enjoyed it. This story is probably going to have two or three more chapters. I am thinking about writing a few shorter stories that feature Abby and follow specific episodes or events from the show. Please leave me a review if that is something that you would be interested in reading, so I know if I should write it or not. I would also love some feedback on this chapter. Thanks!_


	8. Chapter 8

_**A/N **__Thank you to everyone who reviewed; you guys make writing this story an incredibly rewarding experience. This will be the second to last chapter, and I hope you like it._

_**Disclaimer: **__It really doesn't need saying at this point._

* * *

**No Rest for the Winchesters**

**Chapter 8**

The suffocating pain of the tube in her windpipe was the first thing that Abby was aware of when she came to. She choked, reaching up with weak hands to undo the tape that held the rubber pipe in place before pulling it out desperately, gasping gratefully for air when her lungs were freed. After taking a moment to breathe, Abby sat up slowly, looking around her. She was in a hospital room, but she couldn't remember…

"Help! I need help!"

Abby threw herself off the bed at the sound of her little brother's voice. She remembered now; remembered the helicopter that had brought her entire family to her hospital, broken and bleeding. She remembered the sight of her twin's face, cut and pale, and the feeling of dread in her stomach when she read his chart, proclaiming his to be an all but hopeless case. And she remembered seeing his spirit, torn from his body and drifting.

She dashed into the room next to her own, following Sam's shouts. She saw Dean on the bed, miraculously conscious and choking on his ventilator tube, just as she had been a moment ago. Abby ran to her twin and placed a hand on his shoulder, not noticing the way Sam was staring at her.

"Dean? Dean, it's okay, I'm going to take the breathing tube out, just calm down."

The young doctor let her medical training take over, trying to avoid her brother's panicked gaze. She extubated Dean carefully, glancing at his monitors when she had finished. Everything was normal.

"Abby?" Sam's hesitant voice came from behind her. "What…I mean…are you okay?"

He looked like he had been through far too much in a very short period of time.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You got shot," replied Sam incredulously.

Abby stared at him for a moment, the memory returning to her in a painful flash. Her hand flew to her chest as she remembered the feeling of the bullet tearing through her, and the sight of her lifeblood gushing out of her in an unstoppable river.

"What?" It was Dean who spoke up this time. "Will somebody please tell me what's going on? Why is Abby here? When did she get shot?"

"You don't remember?" asked Abby. "You were there, as a spirit."

"All I remember is being in the impala, and then this really loud crash. And then I woke up here, with that damn tube in my throat." He eyed the offending ventilator distastefully.

"You were all in a car crash," Abby told him. She explained everything that had happened, up until her shooting. "I just remember you yelling at me, trying to warn me, and then there was blood everywhere, and I was dying. Everything went dark, and then I woke up in the room next door, also with a tube down my throat, I might add," she finished.

"What happened to the guy who shot you?" asked Dean, the controlled anger evident in his voice.

"He shot himself," answered Sam distractedly. He was looking at Abby curiously. "You don't remember being a spirit either?" he asked.

"No. Was I?"

"Yeah, after you got shot, Dean's heart stopped. I could feel…something while he was flatlining; it just felt like him. And then I felt the same thing with you later when I was in your room. Then after that, when I was with Dad, one of you must have knocked a glass of water off of the table-"

"I bet it was Abby," muttered Dean. "Klutz."

"Excuse you," she said indignantly. "You're the one who-"

"Anyway," Sam interrupted pointedly. "I went and got a talking board. It actually worked; both of you were there. You told me that there was a reaper after you, like the one that was being controlled by that faith healer's wife. You were both in really bad shape, but then you just woke up at the same time, and you both seem to be fine."

His face broke into a smile, as if he were just registering the fact that the siblings he had been so worried about were actually alright.

"Yeah, well definitely no bullet holes," said Abby. "As for you, Dean…"

She moved in to give him a more thorough examination for injuries, but was stopped by a dumbstruck voice from the doorway.

"Abby?"

She turned to see her mentor, Dr. Bradley, staring at her, stunned.

"Oh. Hi doctor. I know; I can't explain it either, I just woke up and I was fine."

He continued to stare at her for a moment, before stepping forward and pulling her into a hug. It was Abby's turn to be frozen by shock; her mentor had never given her a hug before. Her condition must have been truly severe. The older doctor was also amazed at Dean's return to consciousness. He insisted on running full examinations on both of them, which showed that the twins were in perfect health.

"I can't explain it," he marveled. "Every single injury on both of you has vanished. Your vitals are good. You must have some kind of angel watching over you."

"Thanks, Dr. Bradley," said Abby. He looked at her for a moment, seeming to understand that she wanted a moment alone with the people who should have been strangers to her. Abby was grateful when her mentor seemed to accept the fact that he would never fully comprehend the situation, and left the small, tattered family in peace.

"So you said there was a reaper after us?" Dean asked once the older doctor was out of earshot.

"Yeah," Sam replied.

"So how'd we ditch it?" asked Abby. She could not shake the cold, wrong feeling that had been present in her core since she regained consciousness.

"You got me. Guys, you really don't remember anything? Neither of you?"

"No," said Dean. "Except this pit in my stomach." He looked up at his sister for confirmation, and the icy feeling inside her intensified. If he was experiencing it too, something was definitely amiss.

Suddenly, an image flashed through Abby's mind; the sight of her father, grasping the hand of an unfamiliar man. The memory was gone as soon as it came, but it was replaced by a few other fragments from her time as a spirit; Timothy Meyer's bloody and vacant body, Sam with his head clutched in his hands, her twin's head on her shoulder, a dark-haired young woman with chilling yellow eyes.

"Sam, something's wrong," she said, trying to convey the feeling that she and Dean were experiencing. Before she could elaborate however, there was a knock on the door.

"Hey guys," said John Winchester, giving his children a small smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine, I guess," answered Abby.

"Alive," added Dean.

"That's what matters," their father said.

"Where were you last night?" Sam asked, clearly angry.

"I had some things to take care of," John replied calmly.

"Well, that's specific."

Abby sighed. Why was her little brother so eager to start a fight? His siblings had just literally returned from the brink of death, and all he could do was get on their father's case. Dean clearly felt the same way as his sister.

"Come on, Sam," he pleaded.

"Did you go after the demon?" Sam ignored his brother.

"No."

"You know, why don't I believe you right now?"

"Can we not fight?" Abby was surprised that her father was not rising to Sam's bait. They were usually perfectly capable of fighting about nothing at all, but now…"You know, half the time we're fighting, I don't know what we're fighting about. We're just butting heads. Sammy, I, I've made some mistakes. But I've always done the best I could. I just don't want to fight anymore, okay?"

That was the moment in which Abby was certain that something was wrong. Apparently Sam felt the same way.

"Dad, are you alright?" All of his aggression had drained away, leaving worry in its wake.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm just a little tired. Hey, son, would you, uh, would you mind getting me a cup of caffeine?"

Everyone in the room knew that John was trying to get rid of Sam. The youngest Winchester stared at the older hunter for a long moment before he responded.

"Yeah." Sam had evidently decided not to push their dad any further for the moment. "Yeah, sure."

John's eyes were virtually unreadable as he watched his son leave the room, but they contained an undeniable sadness.

"Dad, what is it?" asked Abby gently.

Tears sprang to her eyes when her father turned to face her. She had not expected to see such raw emotion in his expression.

"Abby," he said, giving her a tragic smile. "Have I ever told you how much you remind me of your mother?"

Abby shook her head mutely, terrified of what was causing her dad to open up like this, and yet keen to hear what else he had to say.

"It's true. You have her smile, and her courage, and her stubbornness. Well," John let out a small laugh. "I guess some of that might be my fault. And you have her heart."

He reached up to touch his daughter's cheek, calloused thumb catching a tear that she had not noticed forming. The gesture triggered another memory, one of watching her father sitting beside her vacant shell, a gentle hand on her face.

"She would have been so proud of you, of the person you've become," John continued sincerely. "Just like I am."

He pressed his lips gently to her forehead before pulling her into a tight hug. Abby felt the warmth and safety that her father's embrace had always promised when she was child, and for a moment she allowed herself to believe that everything would be alright.

"Look after your brothers," John whispered into her ear.

He pulled away and smiled at his daughter one last time. Abby knew that the moment had come for her to leave. She glanced at her brother, who looked just as concerned as she did. Every instinct was telling her to grab her family and run, but another look at her father's face told her that it would be useless. So she just mustered up the courage to return his smile, then turned and left the room.

Abby sat in the chair next to what had been her hospital bed, scrubbing her hand across her face, trying to force the tears to stay inside her skull. She was certain that something was wrong, and she was also certain that she should know what that something was. She had seen it, she was sure, but she could not remember. She pressed her palms into her eyes, as if she could squeeze the answers from her brain.

_It is the end for you…_

The brief flashes of memory had started again, beginning to form a dreadful picture.

_Very unseemly, making deals with devils…_

_Pick one, John; your son or your daughter…_

_Your precious kiddies in exchange for the Colt and your eternal soul…_

_I'm sorry Abbs…_

_It's okay._

Her eyes opened slowly, as if by waiting to look at it, she could change reality. She did not remember everything, but she knew what her father had done. She knew what she had cost him.

The sound of Sam's anguished cry for help rang through the halls. Abby sprinted towards the noise, knowing where it would take her. Sure enough, when she arrived at John's room, it was beginning to fill with nurses and other doctors, all working to resuscitate the limp form of her father.

"Dad," she whispered.

Even knowing the futility of her actions, Abby could not help but rush forward, looking for something, anything that she could do. She started compressions on John's chest, the activity around her fading as she looked at her father's blank face through a haze of tears that she refused to let fall.

The sound of her twin's voice brought her back to agonizingly harsh reality.

"No, no, no, it's our dad. It's our dad!"

Abby could not look around, but she knew that her brothers were standing in the doorway, watching her fail to save the man who raised them.

"Come on," pleaded Dean.

"Okay, stop compressions," said Dr. Bradley gently to his student. But she couldn't; she couldn't stop. Stopping meant giving up.

"Dr. Winchester, it's time to stop compressions," said the older doctor more forcefully.

Reluctantly, Abby brought her hands to rest.

"Come on, come on," Dean muttered as they all watched the monitor for John's heartbeat.

"Still no pulse."

"Okay, that's it everybody." Dr. Bradley turned to Abby, who was staring numbly at her father's motionless body. "Call it, Dr. Winchester."

"What?" Surely he was not asking her to…

"It will bring you some closure."

There was no chance of that, but it was the last thing that she could do for the man who had given her everything. The first tear finally fell as she turned to face her brothers, speaking only to them; the last of her family.

"Time of death: 10:41 am."

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_**A/N**__ I hope you guys liked this chapter. It was really hard for me to write, because there is so much emotion, but I hope it turned out alright. I will be adding an epilogue in the next few days, and then the story will be complete. Thank you to everyone who has stayed with this fic and encouraged me through it!_


	9. Epilogue

_**A/N**__ So here we are, at the end of this fic. For those of you who are wondering, I will be writing more stories with Abby and the boys that will follow the storyline of the show. I will be calling it the 'NoRest!Verse' unless people hate that and want to suggest a better name. Anyway, thanks for reading, and I hope you like the last chapter!_

_**Disclaimer: **__No._

* * *

**No Rest for the Winchesters**

**Epilogue**

The three remaining Winchesters stood shoulder to shoulder, watching in silence as their father burned. It had felt wrong, anonymously incinerating his body like they would on a routine job, so the siblings had built as big a pyre as they could, to announce to the heavens and anyone else paying attention that the world had lost one of its heroes.

It had been hard to get his body out to the clearing that they were standing in. The siblings had tried to treat it like any routine operation, but it had been impossible to ignore the fact that it was their dad, their mentor, the hero of their childhoods, whose corpse they were signing out of the morgue and wrapping in spare sheets, placing in the trunk of Abby's car, and driving to the middle of nowhere. But the hardest part had been dropping the matches that would ignite the only remaining evidence of John Winchester's time on earth. They had each released one, wanting to send their father off together, but also wanting to spread the burden equally.

Abby was alternating between complete numbness and agonizingly overpowering grief. She could not stop thinking about her father's last words, and the way that he had looked at her. For so long she had believed that he hated her, and when she had finally realized the truth, it had been too late to say anything. Seven years that she could have spent with her dad were gone, and now so was he.

Twenty minutes passed before Sam broke the silence.

"Before…before he-" the young man choked out. He did not seem to be able to say the word 'died', as if it would make it more final, undeniable. "Did he say anything to you? Either of you? About anything?"

Abby did not know how to answer her brother. Her memory had continued to trickle back to her since her return to consciousness, and she knew what her father had done. But she could not tell her family; she would not put the crushing weight of John's deal on their shoulders as well as her own. As for what their dad had said to her in Dean's room…it felt too personal to share with Sam right now, and she did not think that she would be able to get the words out. So she remained silent.

"No," said Dean, his voice quiet and raw. "Nothing."

Abby did not believe him. John had known that he was about to die; it was why he had tried to make peace with Sam, and said goodbye to her. He must have had some last words for Dean, but Abby was not about to call out her twin; he must have had a reason for his lie. She was also scared by the dead, empty look on his face.

It seemed to take hours for the pyre to burn out completely. Even after the last embers had stopped glowing, the Winchesters stayed mutely rooted in place, staring at the ashes that were all that remained of their father, unsure how to continue from there. Finally Abby felt compelled to speak.

"We should go. You guys can stay in my apartment tonight, and we can figure things out in the morning."

Her brothers did not look at or speak to her as they climbed into her car and drove to the small apartment that she shared with her boyfriend. She got them settled in as best she could, and then fell back onto her own bed, knowing that sleep would be a long time in coming. She looked at the space next to her, longing for Erik's comforting embrace, but knowing that it would be several hours before he got back from England. She had called him from the hospital to let him know that she was alright, but had not been able to say much else through her tears.

She did not know what to do. Her brothers needed her, of that she was certain, but she was not sure that they would let her help them, especially Dean. He did not remember any of their conversations from his time as a spirit, and he was undoubtedly just as angry at her as he had been when she first spoke to him; probably more, because even with her medical degree she had been unable to save their dad.

But she also could not stand the thought of returning to hunting. She had gotten a taste of the true contentment of an ordinary life, and she did not want to let it go. But her dad, and the sacrifice that he had made for her…her thoughts chased themselves in circles around her mind until she finally drifted off to sleep.

ooooooooooooooooo

"So what now?" Sam asked the following morning as the three siblings sat around Abby's kitchen table, none of them touching the oatmeal that she had made for their breakfast. Sam kept glancing at the picture of their parents that was resting on the windowsill, then looking away as his eyes filled with moisture.

"The impala's at Bobby's place, I want to go fix her up," replied Dean. "He'll let us stay with him; so we can get out of Abby's way."

"You think I want that?" asked Abby incredulously.

"Don't you? Because I thought that you had washed your hands of this family," said Dean harshly.

"Just because I wanted to live my own life doesn't mean I don't care about this family!" Abby shouted. "I loved Dad, and believe it or not Dean, I love you and Sammy too, and I want to help you."

"So what, you're back in? You want to rejoin the family business and ride off into the sunset together?"

"No," Abby said, exasperated. "I want to rejoin the _family_. Is that too much to ask; that I can still be a Winchester, but not live my life in crappy motel rooms, eating nasty food and facing nightmares every day?"

Her brothers were silent. Abby realized that she was being selfish. Sam and Dean could not _want_ lives like that, and yet they lived them anyway; sacrificed their own happiness to help people.

_Take care of your brothers._

Her father's last words to her rang through her head. He had sold himself to Hell for his family, for her, and this was how she was acting? She sighed.

"Look, I want to find the demon that killed Mom and Dad; I want to be a part of that hunt. And maybe…maybe I could come with you guys on some other hunts, when you need backup."

"Are you sure?" asked Sam, giving her an unreadable look. "I know how happy you are as a doctor. You shouldn't have to give that up."

Abby's heart twisted in response to her little brother's concern. After everything that he had been through, he was still worried about her happiness. He was willing to let her off the hook so that she could do what she wanted.

"And you shouldn't have had to give up law school, Sammy," she told him earnestly. "I want to do this; I want to look after you. But I'm still going to be a doctor. One of us has to earn a paycheck, right? Besides, you two need someone to come to when monsters use you as chew toys. I'll be a physician by day, a hunter by night, and maybe a folk singer every other weekend."

Dean snorted and the tension in the room broke.

"Abbs, if you become a folk singer of any kind, I will have no choice but to disown you," he said.

Abby smiled; she had finally gotten through to him. She doubted that she was completely forgiven, but they were family, twins, and it was hard to sustain anger at each other, and Dean was clearly ready to move on.

"Fair enough," she replied. "So you're okay with giving this a try?" she asked hopefully.

"Yeah," her twin said slowly. "Yeah, okay."

"Sammy?" she confirmed.

"If you think it'll work, I'm willing to try it," he replied. "I missed you," he admitted.

"Yeah, I missed you too, dork," she said, ruffling his hair.

"Oh jeez," groaned Dean. "Can we not, with the chick flick moments?"

"I am a chick, Dean," she said, reaching over to ruffle his hair too. "You'd better get used to it if I'm going to come on hunts with you guys."

Her twin just swatted her hand away, rolled his eyes, and got up to put his bowl in the sink. Abby shared a small smile with Sam. It was this that she had missed; just spending time with her brothers.

"I'll drive you to Bobby's today," she told them. "I'll help you fix the car, Dean, because I know there's no way that Sammy can do it."

"Hey!"

"Sorry kid, but you lack the fine mechanical skills that Dean and I were blessed with," Abby said teasingly. "And you can stay with Bobby, if you want, because he actually has beds for you to sleep in."

"Yeah, I can't say I was a fan of the whole sleeping bag on the floor setup," said Dean.

"But I'll come visit you guys, and you'll call me when you need my help on a hunt, or with research, or if you get bitten by a rabid chipmunk and need a booster shot. Okay?" Her brothers smiled, nodded, and went to pack their few remaining possessions.

As Abby drove Sam and Dean to Bobby's house and salvage yard, she could not help but feel a sprout of optimism in her chest. True, their plan was far from perfect, but hopefully it was one that everyone could live with, and would result in the repairing of their family ties. She knew that the weight of what had happened would sink in eventually, and that the small and battered family had a very difficult road ahead, but she felt better knowing that they would be travelling it together.

* * *

_**A/N**__ So the ending might be a little cheesy, but I felt that after all of the angst, you deserved to end on a slightly higher note. My next story in this universe should be posted within the next couple of weeks. Abby is not going to be with the boys on every hunt, so I will not be rewriting every episode. However, if there is a particular episode that you would like me to write Abby into, let me know. And I would just like to thank all of you again for making the writing of this story such a great experience._


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